Just Breathe
by TheCaribbeanBlue
Summary: After a painful emotional outburst, Shay craves the touch and feel of skin against his own. He finds someone to scratch his itch, and when Shay finds the perfect person to love, he doesn't let go. ShayXOC, implied ShayXHaytham. Rated M for the sex and death and surprise ending. This is way better than the crappy summary, I promise you.


**After a painful emotional outburst, Shay craves the touch and feel of skin against his own. He finds someone to scratch his itch, and when Shay finds the perfect person to love, he doesn't let go. ShayXOC, implied ShayXHaytham. Rated M for the sex and death. Which, tbh Assassin's Creed is actually based on when you think about it.**

**I own nothing except for my original character.**

* * *

**Just Breathe**

_New York Harbor: 1781, September 1_

"Shay? Shay! SHAY!" Charles Lee shouted, stomping on to the quarterdeck. "For goodness sake- has anyone seen Shay? Has anyone seen Captain Cormac?"

Shay groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the sound of that irritating suck-up's voice.

"Has ANYONE seen the blasted captain of this ship?" Haytham's voice suddenly roared, making several sailors squeal and run for cover, Shay was quite sure. He attempted to cover his ears, the Grandmaster's voice adding fuel to his already pounding headache.

"N-N-No-No one's seen him since this morning, sir," one stammered.

"How have you _no idea _where you bloody captain is?" Haytham demanded, and immediately there was a cry of pain.

Shay had had enough. He opened his eyes and reached over the top of the crow's nest where he seated. "For Christ's sake, stop abusing my crew!" he called down, annoyed.

Haytham and Charles Lee looked up from the fallen crew member, who was curled up cowering at his feet. "Where the bloody hell have you been?" he demanded.

"Avoiding you arses!"

"What the- Shay! What's wrong with you?!" Charles Lee called, confused.

"I'm tired of- of all this!" He gestured wildly, flinging a random rum bottle out into the air. Then he pointed an accusing, yet unsteady finger at the two. "Just-Just go and leave me be..." he slurred before slumping back into the safety of the crow's nest.

"That's it, we're coming up!" Haytham shouted.

Shay rolled on to his back with a dismissive groan, staring up at some bird, probably a seagull, that was circling the mast. If Haytham wanted to come up here and kick his ass, he would gladly let him. It wouldn't do much except remind Shay how shitty he felt. He watched as the seagull landed on one of the ropes, squawking and ruffling its feathers in the blinding sunlight. For a split second, he prayed it would drop a lovely gift for Lee and Kenway down below.

But deep down, he knew his cruddiness wasn't their fault. He had induced himself into this state, although not with the beer and rum bottles littered around him. He had felt something inside of him just begin to ache, ache and tug at his stomach. He had felt this ever since William Johnson had been killed, just eating away within him for the past years weeks, and it had only gotten worse during Pitcairn's death and Church's betrayal. And Gist...It was almost like he was decaying from the inside.

The liquor really didn't help, he had realized once downing ten bottles of Mount Gay Rum.

"Well isn't this a bloody disaster," Charles said disgustedly as the two men climbed into the crow's nest, kicking a few bottles out of the way. "What the hell have you been doing to yourself, Cormac?"

"Real question is...what I haven't been doing to myself," he chuckled, sitting up straight, then winced as a wave of nausea came over him.

Haytham made a sound of dismay as he knelt beside him. "Shay, are you alright? What brought on this?"

"This?" He gestured listlessly at the empty bottles scattered around his intruded sanctuary. "Oh, this was a long time coming, mate, you should have seen this from a mile away."

"What?" Haytham glanced at Lee, who rolled his eyes.

"Oh, leave him be, Haytham, he's obviously pissed out his mind."

"I mean, it's gonna happen anyway," he continued, leaning against the post.

"What, get pissed and lie in a puddle of vomit and liquor?" Haytham retorted scathingly, getting up and pacing around the nest.

"No. Die."

Haytham paused. "What brought this on?"

"I dunno, it's just...everything. Johnson, Pitcairn, Church." He swallowed hard, forcing himself to get the last name out. "Gist. D-Did you know that they listed his death as smallpox, when he was supposed to be hung? That was supposed to save him from the Assassins. But it didn't. They found him. Soon it'll be Lee. Or you. Or me." He remembered coming across Johnson's body, left right outside his own hall. Pitcairn, trampled by his own men. And when he found out Haytham had gone after Benjamin with his Indian Assassin son...Shay felt a surge a rage go through him, enough to power him into standing. "YOU LET THIS HAPPEN!" he bellowed, pointing a finger at Haytham. "You-You could have _ended _this! You could have _killed _him. Yet with all your talk of _order _and _integrity_, you go and-and you fuck some savage! And now they're dead," he choked, stumbling backwards before falling on his behind. "They're dead. Everything we worked for...everything _I _worked for...dead. All of my friends...dead for _this_."

"Shay, that's nowhere near-" Charles tried to interject.

"Yes, it is!" he screamed, flinging his arms like a child. "It is, and that's all it's ever gonna be!"

"Shay, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying," Haytham said slowly, attempting to soothe him. "Just take a moment and breathe."

"Oh, _please_, Gist, I know _exactly _what I'm saying!" Shay declared, stumbling to his feet. "And I know _exactly _what I'm going to do once I have the chance."

Haytham raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

Shay took a step towards him, intending to say something hurtful or meaningful, maybe a call to action- something that gave you a punch in the gut- but suddenly the world lurched beneath him. With a groan, he doubled over, his stomach moving with the boat, and glanced upwards, then caught the seagull still perched on the mast. But as the world swam before him, melting and shifting, the seagull's figure and colors slowly began to distort itself, becoming something else.

"Shay? You were going to tell us what you going to do with your chance?" Haytham said impatiently.

He ignored him, eyes locked on the seagull that was now a pigeon. It fixed its gaze on Shay with its beady red eyes, cooing softly. It reached down and began to nibble at something tied around one of its feet. Shay's eyes widened as he spotted the small scrap of paper. An Assassin pigeon. Maybe it would warn them this time, about Lee or Weeks or Haytham-

"Shay?" Haytham waved a hand in front of his face.

"Get that pigeon," he rasped, reaching forward before collapsing face first against the floor.

* * *

"Shay?" Haytham poked his head through Shay's cabin door. "Shay, are you awake?"

"Go on, come in, Haytham," Shay sighed, pulling down the blanket from his face, then winced at the sudden ray of sunlight. "Could you close the door?"

"Sensitive, are we?" he mocked, but gently shut the door. As he approached him, he took off his hat and set it down on the desk, running his fingers along the various maps and reports of ships in his fleet. "You keep busy, I'll give you that."

"I do my best."

"Of course you do. You always do, Shay. That's why I'm worried about you."

"Don't-don't worry about me, Master Kenway. Please," Shay groaned, slowly sitting up, his hair falling freely around his face. "I'm fine, I swear it."

"That's why you called a seagull a pigeon." Haytham stopped in front of him, fixing Shay with his amber stare. "We don't know if Gist is dead."

"Yeah, that's why we've had no contact from him almost a year," he said bitterly. "He wanted to stop at Martha's Vineyard for a drink...I should have known, when I saw that pigeon outside, I should have known..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, for-for earlier. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

"You think so?" Haytham asked wryly.

Shay shook his head. "You didn't know that you had a son, or what he would become. Hell, even I'm still trying to figure out how the kid found Achilles," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I thought that we had managed to get him locked down tight. I guess not." He shook his head again, his hand slumping back into his lap. "Should have let you kill him when you had the chance."

"That wouldn't have solved anything," Haytham sighed, moving to peer outside the window. "The boy would have found his roots somehow, someway. He's persistent. Answered his calling, same as me. You can't stop that. Which is why you can't stop death, Shay. It will happen, no matter what we do to prevent it. There is no magic potion, no Fountain of Youth that can save us from the end, Shay. Our job is to make sure we change the world in a way where no one will mind once it comes to visit."

Shay laughed mirthlessly. "Beg your pardon, sir, but we'll always wish death didn't come, Master Kenway. Whether it be the worst African village or a First Civilization-worthy Utopia. Nobody wants to die."

"Except you," he observed.

Shay closed his eyes. "I've wanted to die for a long time, mate."

"Killing yourself won't solve anything, Shay."

"Why kill myself when so many other people want to?" he snorted.

Haytham rolled his eyes. "You clearly have too much time on your hands. Come on, get dressed." He tossed Shay the outfit he had worn to Versailles, a trip that seemed ages ago. "I need you to deliver a shipment of guns to Thomas Graves. And he deals with no nonsense, so make sure you have your attitude together," he advised as he began to make his way out of the cabin.

Shay's mouth went dry. "Wait-" Instinctively, he grabbed Haytham's arm. "Are-Are you leaving?"

"I'm afraid so. Connor has had a misguided vendetta against Charles for far too long. It'll only be a matter of time before he strikes, so I'm taking him to Fort George."

"Are you sure you couldn't say a night?" he all but pleaded. "I...wouldn't mind if you would stay, Master Kenway."

Haytham exhaled a low breath, searching for the right words. "I can't stay this time, Shay. Right now, Charles and I need to be somewhere safe. _You _need to be somewhere safe. You might think I don't care about what happened to the others, but I do. And I cannot lose any more of my men. Especially you." He hesitated, then gently brushed the loose hair out of his face, carefully drawing his thumb along the edge of his mouth. "Just breathe and get some rest, okay? I'll send in some new recruits to our cause in to help your men. They're a little inexperienced, but they'll get the job done," he promised.

He nodded, unable to speak.

"Once this all over, I'll meet you in Boston, at the Green Dragon Tavern. Don't be late."

"I won't," Shay murmured, laying back down. As the door closed behind Haytham, Shay wondered how long it would be before he turned back to the bottle.

* * *

Shay watched his men smuggle the new shipload of weapons and gunpowder on to the Morrigan under the cover of night from the quarterdeck, cleanly-dressed and freshly shaven, his hair pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes followed them as they hauled the crates beneath the deck, then flickered to the empty harbor and streets. If a Patriot patrol caught them, they would be attacked and interrogated. As much as he trusted his men, he knew that the majority did not feel any sense of loyalty towards the Templar cause. He couldn't take the chance of someone deciding to squeal and reveal Graves's plan to attack the Comte de Grasse's fleet.

Suddenly, there was a warning shout, and Shay caught a glimpse of light just beneath the deck before a plume of smoke erupted from the holes in the latch, subsequently followed by a string of curses.

Hand on his pistol, Shay rushed down the stairs to the latch that led beneath the deck. He yanked it it open and stuck his head inside, hearing the sound of coughing. "Is everybody alright down there?" he called. "If you ain't injured, say 'aye'. If you are, yell 'nay'." A chorus of 'ayes' answered him.

"What the hell happened up there, Capt'n?" someone shouted.

"That's what I'm about to find out," he muttered to himself as he stepped back, and made his way to the loading plank. Just on the harbor through the smoke, he could see his boatswain still shouting at one of the recruits Haytham had sent. _Oh dear, _he sighed. He knew that Mr. Smith, his boatswain, had a temper that the British Army themselves would cower at. A huge and powerful man from Boston, he boasted of the time he laid down the leader of the Continent Army, George Washington when they were both part of the army Seven Years War. He immediately felt pity for the poor subject of his wrath.

"-and how the FUCK didn't you see a CLEAR FUCKING trail of BLOODY FUCKING gunpowder leading to the FUCKING Morrigan?! Trying to blow us all the fuck up to HELL?!" he was roaring, waving his gun wildly.

"What the hell happened?" Shay demanded as he slid to a stop next to Mr. Smith.

"_This _fucking savage BITCH decided to lead a fucking TRAIL of GUNPOWDER to the Morrigan and set the whole FUCKING load ABLAZE!" he bellowed, pointing his gun at the trembling figure.

Shay glanced at the supposed offender. She couldn't have been anymore than eighteen or nineteen, obviously a native with her skin and familiar-looking native garb. Her eyes slid from Mr. Smith to Shay, and their gazes instantly locked. Those wide, soft brown almond eyes practically robbed Shay of his breath. There was something gentle, yet fierce and powerful inside them that seemed to penetrate Shay's very soul, erase that growing feeling of emptiness inside him. He had the feeling only twice in his life- one was dead, the other on his way to Fort George. But he knew exactly what it meant.

He needed to get laid.

Without thinking, he nimbly worked the handgun out of Mr. Smith's hand, and handed it to his first mate. "Well, sir, did you see her do it?"

Mr. Smith glared at him. "No, but-"

"Well, then how do you know she did it?" Shay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because she's one of _them_," he snarled. "A fucking _savage._ You saw them, signing up for the Continental Army, trying to FUCK EVERYTHING UP."

"Well, she was recommended to me by a man I trust very much. And if you have a problem with him, then you have a problem with me. And we don't want a problem, now do we?" Shay said coldly.

"No," he muttered.

"Good. Now, did anyone see this young lady go inside the Morrigan and leave a trail of gunpowder?" he called, addressing the crowd.

At first, nobody spoke. Then a stocky young man, another recruit with scruffy blond hair, stepped up. "She was just about to help with her first load. She never went inside, Master Cormac."

"Well, then, there you go," Shay said calmly, turning to Mr. Smith.

"But she lit a match and dropped it on the powder!" he insisted. "And I fucking saw her, too! Didn't we?" He turned to the others, and a few men murmured in agreement.

"And I will deal with her on it," he assured them. "Until then, get back to work!" he shouted, and them immediately scuttled back to their jobs. He turned back to the native girl, who was making her way after her fellow recruit. "Oh no, you don't, missy," he called. She froze, then slowly turned to face him. He curled his finger at her. She slowly walked back to him, regarding him warily. He let his gaze wander up and down her body, noting the slim-fitting outfit clearly hand-sewn from beaver and otter fur, lingering on the curve of her hips and the long, wavy mane of hair that tumbled down the side of her face. He also noted the swell of her biceps and the strength of her hands.

"You seem strong," he remarked. "Come on- help me with this." He gestured to the crate between them.

She glanced at him, then reached down and easily lifted one half. He grinned as he picked up the other. "Don't tell the other men, but it's nice to have a bit of muscle on this ship for once. She glanced up at him, then returned her gaze downwards, allowing a small smile one her face. They made their way below deck, attempting not to bump into other crew members through the smoke.

Shay made sure he climbed out first, then offered his hand to the girl. Her will wavered for a second, then she accepted it. With hefty grunt, he managed to lift her out on to her feet. "Thank you, Master Cormac," she said softly, a soft accent tinging her words. "For back there, with the boatswain."

"Don't think that you're out of trouble just yet. Come with me." He gestured to his cabin.

She froze. "Sir, I do not think I should go in there."

"I only want to talk," he promised as he opened the door. "Nothing more."

She hesitated. "Nothing more?" she repeated.

"Of course," he said smoothly. She pushed her hair out of her face, and quickly made her way into his quarters. He followed after, gently closing the door behind her. "Stand in front of my desk," he commanded.

She nodded, and took her place before the table. "If I may begin, sir, it was my fault for not having spotted the spilled gunpowder and reporting it."

"As if you could see a trail of black powder in the dead of night," he snorted, walking past her, then paused in his tracks. "What's your name, lass?" he asked.

"Sir, with all due respect, I am not sure if you have the accent to pronounce it," she replied, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled as he stepped in front of his window, folding his hands behind him. "M'am, with all due respect, I lived with an Iroquois tribe for six months and I learned their language as well as each and every one of their name."

"I am Algonquian."

"May I have your name?" he repeated, turning to face her.

She rolled her eyes. "Sooleawa."

"Sue-lee-ah-wah?"

She nodded. "My Colonial friends call Leah. For some reason."

"Really? Because I damn like Sooleawa." He turned back to the window, watching his men continue to carry the crates into the ship. "Have any meaning to it?"

"In your language, it means silver."

"Silver?" He glanced over his shoulder. "Sounds like a story to tell."

"There used to a be warren of fox outside my village whose fur was the color of a wintry sky. I think one liked me as a child, and my mother named me for it. I think she cursed me," she added jokingly, holding out a chunk of her hair, revealing the frequent gray strands mixed in with raven-colored hair in the dim cabin light.

With the lights, he could now see other hidden features. Her almond-colored skin glowed in the dim light of the candles, a small spray of freckles going across an aquiline nose and high cheekbones, well set on an oval face and long neck adorned with that thick, wavy hair that Shay longed to run his fingers through. Although her lips and eyebrows were a little thicker than he'd like them to be, and her ears a little to high, he was sure he could forget about it once she was in bed.

He swallowed and nodded, turning back to the window. "Mr. Smith had a point back there, though. Why would a Native decide to help the British Army?"

She was quiet for a second. "Most people would have thought so. I do not blame them. Many believed the Colonial Army would help free their lands from the British and joined their ranks."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because the Colonial Army destroyed many villages, including my own. George Washington and his men raided my village during the Sullivan Expedition. They set my home ablaze, salted the lands, and killed the men and women there. I lost my family that day," she whispered. "I could never serve under the man who gave the order to have my parents scalped and hung from the trees."

That definitely wasn't what Shay was expecting, and wasn't sure what to say for a second. "But not your own?"

"My village was neutral. One of the few whose neutrality was recognized." She shrugged. "We were lucky."

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

She tilted her head, "Why do you apologize? You had nothing to do with it."

"Because...bloody Christ, I don't know," he sighed. "But I know what it feels like, though, to lose someone. Aye, I've lost a lot of people over the years. Friends, family." His eyes flickered over to Sooleawa's reflection. "They all seem to leave in the end."

"Because at the end there is only death," she said quietly.

Shay nodded in agreement. "Only death. It's nice to find someone who understands that," he sighed. "So many people don't, or claim they do, and both will cry when they see their friends die."

Sooleawa glanced up at him. "Master Cormac, why did you bring me here?"

"You're so edgy, Sooleawa, I just wanted to talk," he chuckled, walking back towards her. "Although it's good for you to be wary. In a world like this, people are always watching, look for an angle, judging you by what they can take."

"I am well aware of that, Master Cormac," she said stiffly as he stopped in front of her.

"Of course you are. Because you're smart, right?" He began to pace in a circle around her. "How many men have you killed, Sooleawa?"

"I- I am not, sure. Twenty, twenty-five?"

"So you've been a recruit for some time," he checked.

"Yes, sir."

"Funny, how Master Kenway never mentioned you. But you're obviously skilled. Did Master Kenway personally take you under his wing?"

She didn't speak for a second. Then she spoke so softly that Shay had to strain to hear it. "Yes, sir."

"Uh huh. And how many of those men were actual challenges?"

"Not too many. Probably half. The rest sought me as an easy target. They were mistaken."

"Indeed they were," Shay agreed. "How about stealing?"

"Not as well," she confessed. "Sometimes I am clumsy and alert them to my presence during an assignment."

"Like earlier, when you dropped the match," he said wryly.

"I wasn't trying to steal," she muttered. "I just- I was lighting a match for a friend who wanted a quick smoke before getting to work. And it slipped through my fingers."

"How about men you've lured into a trap? You must be good at luring."

She tilted her head, thinking quietly. "Ten, at most"

"For such an experienced killer, that's not a lot," he observed.

"Unfortunately, I've learned very fast that most men in the world only want two things: conquest and sex. It is not hard to convince them of a place where they can claim both, but I have never been good at persuasion."

"What are you good at?"

"Not much, sir."

"Come on, there must be something you're good at," Shay said, beginning to feel frustrated. "What about fencing?"

"Not good with a sword."

"Hand fighting?"

"I am better than most, I believe. I could easily teach you twelve ways to kill a man with only your hands," she offered.

"Good to know. Following?"

"I am adequate. But my eyesight is poor. It becomes hard for me to follow a person if they stray too far from me."

"How many have escaped you?"

"Out of thirty...I would guess ten."

He turned to look at her incredulously. "How on Earth did you manage to kill twenty-five people? What, were they during fights?"

She shook her head.

"Then how the bloody hell did you kill so many?" he demanded.

"I locate my assignment and I attempt to make sure they do not breach my weaknesses. It is not that hard."

Finally, something he could relate to. He sighed, rubbing his eyes, wondering if this was a good idea. "How many have escaped you?"

"Technically three. One actually had a counter-ambush waiting for me, the other managed to escape on to a ship while I thought I was following them on the East Side of New York, and the third was a boy I knew from my village. I was so surprised that he slipped right from under my fingers." She chuckled to herself. "Master Kenway was outraged."

"You don't seem to chucked up about it. Did you want him to live?"

"I do not really care, if I may be frank. They are only assignments."

"And are you a virgin?"

She started. "Sir?"

"Are you a virgin?" he repeated without looking at her. "Surely if men only want sex and conquests, then ought one of them received such before the hatchet fell?"

"I am not an idiot, I know how to defend myself," she said, clearly annoyed. "I would not allow any man to even glimpse my body, let alone..." She shuddered, shaking her head. "Besides, men are, as your women say, _icky_."

He chuckled, looking back out the window. "Aye, I suppose we are. " He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Have you even been with a man?"

Her deep brown eyes narrowed. "Sir, I am not sure if that is an appropriate-"

"Just a friendly question, Sooleawa."

She hesitated, then shook her head. "I am not very adept with...men who desire me. And very few whom I care for desire me as well..."

"What about me?" he asked, twisting his torso towards her.

"I beg your pardon?"

He chuckled, stepping towards her. "I suppose that I'm not the most flattering man to be with. About ten years ago, strapping, tall, no gray hair," he joked, pointing to a few clumps that rivaled Sooleawa's own gray hair. "Probably see me as some perverted, mischievous old rascal attempting to take advantage of a poor young girl."

"No, well- yes, but sir, you misunderstand me," she said hastily. "You are handsome the way you currently are, and you seem extremely kind and honorable, it is just that-"

That was all he needed. He slid forward until he was practically looming over her, fingers pushing away the hair from around her face. "Just that what?" he murmured, letting his fingers trail of the side of her face. The softness of her cheek just beneath his fingertips made him ache in anticipation.

She blinked her eyes rapidly, struggling to meet his gaze. "It- It is just that - I - I...It would not be right, if we were to engage in anything...of the sort..." As she spoke, he leaned forward, rushing his lips along the side of her neck. He wanted to taste her. Her stuttering worsened as he began to press them in little kisses up and down her throat, his hands cupping each side of her face. Her skin reminded him of the freshwater springs in Deer Valley - warm, light sprays of grass and earth. "I - I - I...please, sir, I cannot - " She gasped loudly as he drew his tongue along the underside of her jawline, her fingers immediately going up to clutch at her elbows. "I do not think I can do this," she choked out.

"Shh...just breathe, Sooleawa," he murmured, pulling back to look her in the eyes. Her face was flushed red, her pupils dilated as she stared in both confusion and want. This girl, who had managed to kill over ten men in probably less years, helpless in his hands. She was beautiful...and she could be his...

Sooleawa made a surprised sound in the back of her throat as he cupped her face with both hands and pressed his lips against hers in a soft kiss. It took a lot of him to hold back, used to the messy, tongue-tasting, clash-of-teeth he had become accustomed to with backdoor whores and rebellious millers' daughters, and attempted to be gentle with her. First kisses were important.

Their eyes met immediately after their lips did. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered one hand to wrap around her waist and bring her close. He could feel her heartbeat thrumming through her chest, pulsing against his. Sighing softly, he deepened the kiss as he pressed less gently against her, flicking the tip of her tongue at her entrance. She stared him, chest heaving, before blinking them closed and parting her lips open for him. He groaned as he explored her mouth, tasting and touching the new world open to him. He slid his tongue along the underside of her own, causing her to shiver violently underneath him. His hands slid down her sides, fingers drumming along her side before placing both hands on her ass, and softly began to massage her through her clothes. She whimpered, burying her face in his chest as her hips began to push back into his hands. Slowly, his hands slip upwards before settling on her hips, and began to nip at her throat, catching the spot between his teeth and worrying the skin.

"Master Cormac, please," she gasped, arching herself against him. He groaned as the swell of her breasts pressed against his chest, and continued to kiss along her neck. "Just wait and - Ah!" she moaned as he began to suck on the bit of collarbone that escaped her restrictive blouse. She tasted of rain and of wind, cool and chill against his tongue that sent a thrill though his body. "Shay! she cried out, her fingers digging into his skin.

He couldn't hold back anymore; that same red that he saw when he went in for the kill clouded his vision now as he bodily pressed her against the wall, an animalistic grunt escaping his lips. Parting her legs with his knee, he began thrust against the native girl. Sooleawa cried as he grounded himself against her, practically clawing into his work shirt. "Oh my—oh my goodness, oh—!" She cursed fluently in her native language. Cries of pleasure escaped her lips as he rolled his hips against hers, the sounds sending shivers up his spine.

"Fuck," he hissed against her neck, before digging his teeth into the skin. She didn't cry out again, but slammed her head against the wall so hard that for a second he was worried that she had a concussion.

"Are you okay?" he whispered in her ear, ceasing his frantic thrusting.

"Yeah," she managed, fixing her gaze on the ceiling. "I think. I am so sorry, I did not mean to…"

"It's okay, Sooleawa, I've got you, love," he assured her, catching her hands within his own. They were so small and tender in his own calloused palms. His long fingers curled over them, and he leaned in for another kiss. She inhaled sharply, eyes wide as she stared at him incredulously as their lips met again, yet she didn't fight back as he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Her lips tasted of something exotic; sweet like honey and blackberries, yet as fresh and cool as the wide open sky and rushing rivers across the frontier. Then, slowly, she closed her eyes and pressed back hesitantly.

The small gesture sent a golden rush through Shay's body, lighting it and setting it ablaze. But he had to make sure. It was so easy to just convince someone what they should want instead of their own desires. Reluctantly, he pulled away and her eyelids fluttered open. "Sooleawa, if you don't wanna do this...I get it, I do. We can stop right now if you'd like."

"That makes no sense."

That was not either of the answers Shay had been expecting. "What?"

"Why would you kiss me despite my requests for you _not _to, then tell me that it is _my _choice?" she demanded. Despite her anger, he couldn't help but think how adorable she looked with her flushed cheeks against her freckles and tussled hair and darkened eyes. "It makes no sense for you to force yourself on me, and when I clearly _want _to continue, you decide to-" She broke off with a squeal as he lifted her into his arms.

"That's all I wanted to hear, love," he laughed as he carried her to his bed. She huffed in annoyance, but didn't protest as he gently laid her down on to the bed. She exhaled heavily as she sat up, fear written plainly on her face.

"You'll be fine," he reassured her, dragging the back of his hand along the side of her face. She bit her lip, not convinced. Shay sighed and slid his hands up her thighs, and she shivered. He continued upwards, long fingers dancing along her sides and across her collarbone, before reaching up to cup her face. "I'll take care of you," he murmured, before reaching in to give her a long, searing kiss. She groaned as he gently pressed her back against the bed, becoming almost docile beneath him. Sensing her beginning to relax, he dragged his tongue along her lips, making out the 'm' shape of her mouth. She whimpered, her fingers clenching into the blankets. He slid his lips to the side, mouthing against her freckled cheek before tracing the edge of her jaw line.

"Shay," she groaned, arching against him.

"Shh, shh," he purred against the dappled cheek, her frantic breathes billowing against his face. "You're doing so well, just keep it up…"

"How…do you…breathe?" she gasped.

Shay chuckled. "Through your nose. In and out, just in and out…" As he spoke, his hips subtly shifted against her, mimicking the movements they were sure to make later on. "Would you like to try?"

"In and out. In and out." She took a deep breathe, then hesitantly looked up at him with those piercing eyes. "I'm ready."

"That's the right attitude," he grinned. Wasting no time, he swooped down on the awaiting mouth, groaning when he found it open and willing. Shay dug his fingers into her her clothed hips and pushed her forward, shifting their position so that they were both on the bed. Outside, he hadn't noticed she was wearing man's pants beneath her dress. But now, with her slacks raised up and scraping against his sides, it became the irritating reminder that they were still wearing clothes.

She whined in protest as he pulled away again. "Don't worry, little one," he reassured her as he undid the bear teeth buttons of her dress, nimbly slipping them through the loops.

"I'm not little," she muttered, her cheeks and ears flushed red as she slid off her fur-covered arm bracers.

"No," he agreed, parting the two sides to reveal a lovely sized bust hidden behind a gray undershirt, the nipples visibly straining against the fabric. "No, you are not." Slipping an arm underneath her, he pulled her up and into his lap, sliding off her shirt as he nipped at her jugular.

Suddenly, her arms were twined around his body and her face was buried in his shoulder. "Could we go a little slowly? I mean, not slow during…it, but uh—"

"Hmm?" he murmured as he rasped his tongue along her throat and could practically feel her eyelids flutter.

"Like...from earlier, I have no experience in this area," she admitted. "I would like to familiarize myself with this, if you do not mind."

Shay completely understood; he drew back enough so he could look into her lust-filled but focused eyes. "Okay. Okay, we'll go slowly. But I expect for you do the same in return," he said slyly, taking a braid that had managed to free itself from her wild mane and played with it between his fingers.

She bit her lip, then nodded. "Good. Now, let's start with these, hmm?" With a devilish grin curling his lips, he slid his hands under her shirt, eliciting a gasp from her mouth.

"Master Cormac!"

"I told you," he said wryly, drawing his fingers up and down her sides, "call me Shay."

"Shay—" She was cut off as he kissed again, swallowing the sound of his name from her lips. This time, she tentatively kissed back, curving into him and moaning into his mouth as he slid his fingers against the soft, warm skin.

"Shay," she groaned as he turned his head to press tender kisses up her neck.

"There you go," he whispered, rubbing his hands along her back. The skin felt less fluid here, a few places bunching together in rigid, smooth skin. _Probably scars,_ he guessed. He had many on his own back from his years first as an Assassin then as Templar. He sighed as he drew his finger along a rigid line. Nobody should have to go through that sort of pain.

"Shay," she choked as he accidentally flicked a finger against one of the spots.

"Sorry love, I wasn't thinking. On the bright side though, glad to see my name's finally catching on," he teased.

"I…Uh, aren't you going to take off my shirt?"

"Aren't we eager? Well then, if you must-"

"No, wait-!" She gasped in surprise as he shoved against the bed. He climbed on top of her, easily stripping her of her undershirt, and flung it over his shoulder.

To his surprise, Sooleawa twisted beneath him, her arms clinging to her torso as she pressed her face against the bedspread. "Sooleawa?" he asked in concern, resting on his knees. "Are you okay?" She shook her head, not speaking. "Sooleawa, talk to me."

"I lied, earlier," she managed to choke out. "I wasn't truthful, when I told you that I had-"

"Yeah, no doubt," he chuckled, drawing a finger along the side of her face, guessing what she was referring to. "I already know, love."

Her eyes bugged. "You do?" she gasped.

"Sooleawa, it's completely fine. No female lure manages to escape a man's gaze every single time," he informed, taking her hands and gently tugging them away from her body. He raised them above her head before reaching for her chest binds. "Especially thirty men, and someone as young as you. It happens, love." He reached down and pecked his lips on her cheek. "And I blame you none, love. As long as your virtue still belongs to me."

She glanced at him worriedly, then gasped slightly as he slid the white cloth from underneath her, but didn't turn to look at him again even while he was tossing the soft binds into the steadily growing pile of clothes.

Shay let out a groan he hadn't known he had been holding at the sight of her breasts. It had been so long since he had gone to a brothel, but he remembered the saggy and pockmarked breasts, scarred with the fingerprints of other strangers. But these...the breasts large enough for him to cup yet not to big she could smother him. The dark brown nipples glowed in the darkness, the stiff little nubs reaching to the ceiling in their sudden exposure. He couldn't help but reach down and drag his tongue along the smoky areola, and was awarded with a cry of pleasure as she bucked underneath.

"That's my girl," he murmured against the skin, before taking her right breast in one hand and massaging it gently.

She groaned, her fingers digging into the sheets. "Shay…"

"Yes, Sooleawa? Do you like that?" he whispered, taking the other one, and squeezed the nipple with his thumb and middle, making her yelp. "Do you like it, Sooleawa? Just like that?" He proceeded to rimming the nipple with his tongue, and she flung her head back, a hiss escaping through her teeth. "Go on, Sooleawa, say it, say you like it," he encouraged.

She bit her lip, pressing her thighs together before nodded.

He pinched her left nipple. "Say it."

"I like it," she groaned, squeezing her legs together.

"Say it turns you on."

"It turns me on…"

"What turns you on?" he coaxed.

"When you touch me…It turns me on when you touch my breasts, oh my goodness it feels so good. It feels so good when you touch and kiss me there, Shay, please—"

"Tell me what you want," he commanded.

She blinked her amber eyes rapidly, trying to think as he kneaded her tender skin. "I…I want you to suck on my nipples. Please."

"Good lass." He immediately took a dusky brown nipple in his mouth and sucked. Hard. She arched her back beneath him, wailing. He rolled the other tit between his fingers as he suckled, loving the sweet taste of her skin, of the whiff of frontier wind and bear skin. He couldn't remember the allure of rose perfume and fake lilac scents of brothels anymore. He switched sides, darting his tongue along the underside of her breast before claiming the other teat. "Oh Shay, _Shay_," she moaned, writhing beneath him.

He released the tit with a soft pop. "You like that?" he panted. She nodded, squirming beneath him. "Good. I want you to tell me if I do anything you don't like, okay? It's not worth doing this is if both of us aren't enjoying it," he murmured, nuzzling her chest.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Okay. Now—" he curled his fingers around the loop of her pants' belt hold and pulled them down with a heft tug—"let's get down to business." She swallowed, but nodded and watched as her slacks, her last defense, slid down her legs and joined the pile. Shay exhaled, reveling at the sight of the lean, long pair of legs that curled against each other beneath him, and rested his lips on a spot just above her left knee. "Just breathe, Sooleawa, and I will make you feel the best you've ever been," he promised, kissing the skin around the knobbly knee. "Do you trust me, love?"

She swallowed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I trust you, Shay Cormac."

"And I trust you," he reciprocated, curling his fingers around her ankles and gently pushed her legs up into bent position, revealing the patch of dark hair covering her womanhood. He inhaled deeply, attempting to keep himself under control. He leaned back and began to shed his clothes and armor, always watching Sooleawa out of the corner of his eyes. After a few moments, she sat up and began to watch him undress, curiosity and hunger decorating her eyes as they followed each new revealed piece of skin.

"Seems like I'm not the only eager one," he joked as he finally shed himself of the last unwanted piece of clothing, then crawled on top of her and kissed her lovingly on the lips. She only smiled and laid back down. His hands trailed down her body, skipping over her pussy, just in case she wasn't ready yet. He trailed his big hands up her calves, tickling the backs of her knees and stopping as he felt the wetness on her thighs.

"Jesus, Sooleawa, you're so wet," he teased.  
The nervous look in her eyes were enough to deter him from any more jokes, and instead of bending his head down to lick her, he rubbed his fingers repeatedly over her inner thighs and then licked them. Tangy and sweet, just like the rest of her. He returned his hands, slowly inching them closer to her glistening pussy and slid a finger inside her when she didn't object. The look on her face was comically blissful, enough to get him to forget about his aching erection strained against his stomach and instead feel pride.

"You feel amazing," he murmured. He slowly slid his finger in and out, teasing the little button of pleasure. She moaned, rolling her hips against his hands. Her warm brown body glistened with sweat, her back arching towards him with want and need. "Now, what I'm about to do, it may shock you," he warned. "So I'm askin' you now- don't kick."

"What? I do not understand, why would I-" she broke off with a broken moan, doubling over and clutching her stomach.

He grinned as he flicked his tongue at her insides with a faster pace. It wasn't that she hadn't been wet before, but now she was practically leaking. He accidentally got a drop on his tongue, and almost pulled back when he caught the flavor of it. He washed the taste in his mouth, then smacked his lips, and lapped eagerly at her juices, savoring the taste. _Honeydew. Honeydew and hickory, _he decided, He licked his lips hungrily, before diving into her snatch, his lips clamping down on her labia, and sucked hard. Sooleawa moaned, her hips bucking the air; the covers scrunched up as she dug her fingers into the strewn blankets. Not taking his mouth off of her, he grabbed her by the waist, and forced her back on to the bed, hoping not to get an eyeful of pelvis.

Despite him holding her down, she was still somehow managing to roll her hips against his face, moaning and whining for him. She cried out fluently in her native language, mixing his name in with her natural jargon. Shay had no idea what she was saying, but he had a vague idea. He parted her flaps with his tongue, and glided it over her sensitive nub, and felt as her body shuddered and practically melt in his hands. He suddenly forgot about how well she tasted, more concentrated on making her feel this way. Making her feel this pleasure that he was giving her. If he was truly honest with himself, he just loved seeing her squirm because of him overpowered his need for a lay.

As he pleasured her, he explored her. Felt the ridges alongside her labia, caressed the slick spot of her opening. He tried to find angles that he would give her more of this apparently wonderful feeling that she was getting, trying fast at one moment, then slow at the next. He gently nibbled at her lips, glancing up at her to see if he was doing okay. _Moaning, body shaking, sweating - we're on the right track_, he thought. Just then, her legs wrapped around his head, her fingers clutching desperately at his hair as she ground her hips against his face. _Aye, everything is just fine._ Holding his breath, he attacked her clit, nibbling and kissing it, making sure every lick made her yell for more. Yell for him.

Sooleawa suddenly cried out, louder than all the other times, her legs on either side of his head squeezing him tightly. Shay was surprised by the steady stream of juices that flew out of her opening, but easily swallowed them, catching each precious drop on his tongue before they fell on to the floor. By the time she had finished orgasming, her legs had fallen from the sides of his head, her body flopping bonelessly on to the bed. Her chest was heaving with every breath.

Shay released his grip on her ankles and slid himself up her body, his eyes narrowed worriedly. "Are you alright?" he whispered, kissing her gently on her nose.

"I- I think so," she panted. "I have never...I do not think I will experience something so wonderful again."

"I dunno, love," he said slyly as he prepped his aching tip against her hole. "We haven't even gotten to the main course yet."

She glanced down at his waiting cock warily. "Of course. Shay...could you hold me?" she asked timidly.

He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close until they were pressed against each other sitting up. "Of course, love. Anything." He pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, then made a noise of surprise as her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him against her. She began to rub her body against his, sliding her sweaty skin along his own, marking him with her scent. He closed his eyes, running his hands along her body, teasing her erect nipples and tickling her flat stomach. Her own nimble fingers undid the ponytail band, then quickly twisted themselves with the peppered gray strands.

"Are you ready?" he gasped when they finally pulled away for air.

She hurriedly nodded, biting her lip. "It would be a shame if this night was spoiled with pain. Please do it quickly," she advised as she buried her face in his shoulder. He nodded, and kissed her cheek before preparing for the first thrust.

The sex was different than he expected. Yes, she was a virgin and she bled, but she also seemed strangely able to fit herself to him, taking him in as if they had made love many times. They moved fluidly against each other, her hands almost moving instantly to the right spots, as if she instinctively knew his most sensitive places to be touched. He attempted to reciprocate the feelings, busying his hands with her breasts as he thrust, making sure to always brush against her sweet spot, but as he neared his climax, he found that he was nowhere near as good at multitasking that she was. When he finally came, she clung to him with a wail, her nails digging into back and leaving permanent red scores down his back. They collapsed on top of the bed in a heap, both panting heavily, Shay especially enjoying the feeling of being sated for once in what seemed like ages.

Sooleawa was the first to move. "I should probably get going," she sighed, slipping out from underneath him to grab one of her arm bracers. "My friends are probably anxious to know where I am," she sighed as she fixed it on, then patted him on the back.

Suddenly, Shay felt a prickle go through his shoulders and fill him with a rush of golden light. "I want you to stay!" he blurted out without thinking, grabbing her around the waist. "Come with me, to see Graves, then afterwards. I can show you so many things, Sooleawa, if you would just let me show you..."

"Master Cormac!" A shout from his first mate outside interrupted them, making Shay groan loudly. "Master Cormac, Master Kenway has a message about the recruits he's sent you!"

Shay and Sooleawa glanced at each other. "What about them?" he called, still feeling giddy from his high rush.

"Master Kenway thinks a few have gone missing- they found their bodies in the sewers near Fort George."

Shay looked sharply at Sooleawa. "Thank you, Howard, that'll be all." As soon as the footsteps died away, he immediately launched at Sooleawa. "Did a few of your friends not show up tonight?" he demanded as he slipped back on his pants.

"Just two, but I had thought they had gone out for drinks." She hurriedly slipped back on her dress and pants with an odd sort of frenzy.

For a few minutes, both were silent as they struggled to find all their missing clothes and the correct order in which to put them in. Finally, they both stood up from the bed looking frazzled, but not worse for the wear. "You know what's odd?" Shay said as he slipped on his cloak.

"Hmm?"

"You never did answer my question."

She looked up at him, looking exasperated as she fixed on her other fur-covered bracer. "Shay, of course I will go with you. You act as if I have any other choice."

"You-You will?"

"Yes. Now, if you see my left shoe will you t - _oof!_" she grunted as he pulled her into a bear hug.

"Thank you, love, thank you," he breathed, pressing his face into her neck. "I- I wasn't sure if I could live without you. I wasn't sure, I thought..." His heads was rushing, his mind was going to fast for his mouth to catch up. Everything in the room seemed to spin, yet in that moment, a single thought occurred to him.

"Didn't you say you're Algonquian?"

She froze against him. "...yes?"

"So strange," he murmured, petting her hair against his cheek.

She glanced up at him, placing her hands flat against his back. "What is?"

"Just that- Sullivan only went around New York and Pennsylvania. So strange to think he went all the way up to Canada to send a message."

"Right...about that..."

Suddenly, a sharp pain went right through the middle of Shay's back. His legs immediately crumpled from beneath him, and Sooleawa barely managed to keep him upright. He gasped, clinging to her as the coldness of the blade began to spread throughout his body, already the edges of his vision tinging with black. "Don't worry, Shay. It'll all be better now," Sooleawa soothed, gently lowering him to the ground as she pulled her left hand in front of her. The fur on her bracer was pulled back now, revealing an all-too familiar insignia on the hidden-blade.

"You!" he gasped, his fingers struggling for a hold as he quickly began to lose strength. "You..."

"Shhh," she whispered, laying him on the floor, that same fierce look in her eyes that he had seen earlier back once more. "Just breathe, Shay."

The darkness began to swallow him whole, plunging him into the deep abyss. He was too late- he was too far gone.

"Just breathe."

And he welcomed death as an old friend.

* * *

APRIL FOOLS, BITCHES! :DDDDDDDDD

Granted, it is a few minutes late, but you get it.


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